


Crusade to the Heart

by Nyannygiri



Category: Aveyond
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Forbidden Love, Knighthood, Romance, Royalty, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-12-01 19:18:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11492955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyannygiri/pseuds/Nyannygiri
Summary: Prince Nicolas of Thais finds himself falling for his Knight; April, a disciplined sword singer who would do anything in her power to protect him. How will their love fare against the challenges of war, class differences, and a disapproving older brother?





	1. Who Cares About the Royals?

“That’s enough! The round is over.” Marshal Doran’s hands clapped like thunder, the sound striking off of every wall of the training hall. I often imagined that its echoes even reached the palace upstairs. “Miss Anastas wins again. Well done.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I responded succinctly through slightly staggered breath, my sword still poised at the throat of the trembling paladin-in-training in front of me. A single bell tolled signifying the end of sparring practice and a buzz of chattering slowly built up around me. Lowering my sword into its hilt, I joined the flow of people heading toward the exit.

“Wow, April, those were some sweet moves up there!” A slightly round faced woman with cherry red hair pushed her way through the crowd to walk by my side, her friendly eyes gleaming. Winnie. I didn’t know her well, but she’d always been kind to me.

“It was nothing, really.”

“Oh, please! Not one of us has beaten you yet!” She gave me an enthusiastic slap on the back. “You sword singers are in a league of your own, aren’t you?” Winnie laughed cheerfully. I silently groaned as those around us glared in disdain. As much as I appreciated her praise, she seemed to be the only one that was impressed with my ranking. Not that I was particularly surprised - a solitary sword singer in an entire student body of paladins? Not only that, but I’d wiped the floor with everyone in my class at least once during sparring. It must sting, I thought, for a magic user who isn’t even technically supposed to be here to be the top ranking student in the school, though I suppose my sympathy would just irritate them more. I’d only been training with the paladins for three months, but I’d already learned to just keep my head down and ignore the whispers around me. Things seemed to work better that way. Besides, there was no reason for me to get ahead of myself. Top rank or not, I was still just like them - not one of us had earned our armour yet.

 

Walking up the dark stairway wreaked havoc on one’s legs after a morning of sparring, but it had to be done. A veil of silence was dropped on the crowd of paladins (and myself) as we reached the top of the stairs - the training hall was directly below the palace’s throne room and, although we always resurfaced on the far end of the room away from the royalty, it was only respectful to hold our tongues in their presence. Well, that, and many of the female paladins became so preoccupied with spying for the handsome princes that they had no time for chatter. “There he is,” a hushed giggle spread across the small crowd. I turned my head toward the thrones and there stood a muscular man with black hair in a heavy armour - Uthar, the eldest prince and Commander of the Thaisian army. My eyes were on Uthar for only a moment before they flicked onto the figure next to him; a smaller frame clad in exquisite red robes, his blonde hair covering part of his face. “That’s Prince Nicolas,” Winnie nudged me excitedly, “handsome, ain’t he?”

“Sure,” I shrugged. I didn’t really understand the rampant obsession with the royal princes. I respected them, of course, and hoped to have the honour of defending their country in battle one day, but anything beyond that seemed pointless. The School of War and Magick, and Thais’ royal palace may have been in the same building, but their world couldn’t have been further from ours. Prince Nicolas’ icy blue eyes glanced over at the crowd of paladins, before disinterestedly looking elsewhere. A purring swoon spread across the crowd. I rolled my eyes. He was probably _loving_ the attention. Deciding I had no more time for this farce, I cut through the sea of my dawdling fellow classmates and headed toward my apartment room to rest before the afternoon drills.

 

The townsfolk reactions were always amusing to me. Just outside the palace, the upper class ladies and gentlemen always looked down their noses at us students. As I got further from the palace into the commoner ground, though, the reactions became more mixed. Elderly people eyeing me up as a trouble maker. Young children seeing my sword’s scabbard and dancing with excitement around me before their parents apologetically shoo them away. I liked to imagine how the townspeople would view me as a full fledged knight. One day, I thought as I unlocked my apartment door, they’ll all look at me with those same eyes of wonder as the children do. As Winnie does. I chuckled to myself as I laid down for a nap.


	2. His Mistake; Her Consequences

** Nicolas’ P.O.V. **

I’d been waiting outside of Uthar’s dressing room for what felt like hours. He was always busy, supposedly. Always late. Finally, the sound of metal footsteps grew louder until the door before me opened. For whatever reason, Uthar always liked to wear his full suit of armour just to walk around the palace. I always thought he should be careful with how much he polished his chestplate; Narcissus drowned in his own reflection, after all. “Nicolas. Good morning.”

“Good day, Brother,” I spoke shortly. “For what reason have you summoned me? Today is my rest day from training.”

“I know. Today isn’t about your magic studies. You will accompany me to the School of War and Magick.” He said this as he began to walk, the metal work of his suit clattering. I barely held back a groan. Why was I being taken _there_? To observe the baby paladins who probably wouldn’t be coming back from their first crusade?

“For what reason?” I did my best not to sound too disgruntled.

“I have a meeting with the Marshal.” His response quickly continued with a slightly more cautious tone of voice. “Now, Nick, I know that you prefer not train with the common folk, but seeing as you will be their backline in the future, showing your face to Doran is for the best.”

“Don’t call me Nick. It sounds common.” But he was right - it was the duty of full fledged white mages to support the frontline warriors in battle, and I’d lost my ‘in training’ status not long ago. _I suppose I’d better show face, at least. Just bear with it for today._

 

As we reached the bottom of the stairwell, the difference in quality was staggering. Maybe I’d taken the decor of the palace for granted, but the school was barely fit for peasantry. Not that it mattered. I’d be out of there within the hour and then I could forget all about it. A stern looking man in a slightly less extravagant armour than my brother’s approached us. “Uthar! Good to see you! And you must be Nicolas.”

“Yes.” I answered shortly, not wanting to be locked in conversation.

“Man of few words, eh? I can respect that.” He gave a sharp nod with an overzealous, mustachioed smile.

“Nick, Doran and I have… _things_ to discuss.” Uthar put a stoic arm around the Marshal’s shoulder and they walked to the far corner of the hall. “Get acquainted with the school whilst we talk.” _How typical of Uthar to abandon me when I’m this far out of my comfort zone._ Nevertheless, I strolled over to the sparring corner of the hall to watch the paladins play their little war games, just far away enough not to be spotted. Most of them, though, barely put up a fight before being toppled by a brunette woman with burning amber eyes. She was the only one wearing a red uniform whilst everyone else’s were brown. _I see._ The sword singer misfit Uthar was babbling about a few weeks ago. Ironically, she seemed to have a much stronger sense of discipline than all of the baby paladins combined. The man she was sparring pulled himself from the floor and walked past her, nudging her forcefully with his shoulder as he did so. Ah. Jealousy is ugly, I thought, becoming disinterested in the petty issues of common students. Suddenly, another one of the paladins approached her, pushing her with malice. His three cronies behind him laughed. I could just make out what he was saying; “Think you’re better than us? You’re cheating. Magic is cheating. You’re nothing compared to a paladin.” He pushed her again. She didn’t react. She didn’t even look at him - was she used to this? He didn’t back off from her. The laughing became increasingly malicious. Something about the situation made me sick. Paladins - scum in shiny clothing, as always. Before I knew it, my staff was in the air and icicles rained from the ceiling onto the heads of the bullies. Not sharp enough to do any damage, of course, but a mild concussion wasn’t out of the question. _Wait, what am I doing?_ I regained my senses and my magic stopped, but apparently not soon enough. “ _You!_ ” Uthar didn’t sound happy. But he wasn’t talking to me - he was addressing the sword singer, who was now surrounded by sniveling paladins. Cowards. “What do you think you’re doing? Using magic to harm another student is _forbidden_! Sword singer or not, do not expect preferential treatment, do you understand?”

“...Forgive me, Your Highness, but that is not how sword singer magic works.” Her voice was low and unfaltering, though she was visibly upset at being wrongly reprimanded. I started to feel regretful for having even bothered to try and help. Uthar was taken aback - with everyone trying to cozy up to the crown prince, he had little experience in being answered back. He was _not_ happy - not at all. “Are you suggesting that ice fell off of the ceiling by _itself_?” His tone was laced with venom. The sword singer glanced over at me. She knew it was my magic that had gotten her into this situation. Oh, great… A peasant was about to drop me in it. I was in line for another of Uthar’s lectures. She looked away, back at my brother. Her voice was quieter now. “...Sorry, Your Highness. It won’t happen again.”

 _What?_ But she didn’t do it. It was me. Why did she--

“Come on, Nicolas. We’re leaving.” Uthar’s large frame obstructed my view as I tried to eavesdrop on what the Marshal was saying to her, to no avail. We were walking toward the stairwell before I knew it. Uthar was silent, save for his metallic footprints. I couldn’t help but wonder what came next.

“...Uthar.”

“Yes?”

“What… Er, what will become of the sword singer?”

“Oh, is that all?” He scoffed without smiling. “The Marshal will impose sanctions. I’ve made sure of that.”

“...I see.” I was the worst. Not that I cared about commoners whatsoever, but to be responsible for some schoolish misdemeanor? Embarrassing, frankly. It wasn’t that I cared what happened to the sword singer. No, I definitely didn’t care. I told myself that several times that day, each time becoming less and less sure.

 

** April’s P.O.V. **

My fingers were numb. No, it would be better if they _were_ numb. They just hurt. Badly. Marshal Doran had me doing all the chores as disciplinary measures. I’d spent the past five hours scrubbing the school’s floor, scrubbing the dirty uniforms, whetstoning all of the swords, sorting through the waste bags… All of the things that no one wanted to do, and it showed - none of it had been done in weeks. All whilst everyone else was doing morning patrol practice. They even took my name off of the ranking board! “If you’re that good, you can earn it back,” the Marshal had told me. The paladins must’ve been laughing it up. All because of that prince. That stupid, selfish, irresponsible--

“Excuse me.”

\--Prince. Prince Nicolas was stood behind me. How long had he been there? What was I even supposed to say in this situation?

“Oh… Good morning, Your Highness.” _Good morning, Your Highness?! Don’t act so nonchalant around a prince! No, wait, this is the guy who set me up for a fall!_

“...It appears that I caused you some trouble.” He didn’t make eye contact. If I wasn’t the only one in the room, I would have assumed he was talking to someone else. Nevertheless, all of my irritation seemed to melt away.

“N-Not at all, Your Highness. In fact, um… Thank you. Perhaps they won't bother me again.” I was blabbering like an idiot. I wasn't used to talking to royalty, and it showed… I couldn't quite believe he was standing just maybe a metre away from me. The young prince who cares for no one but himself, or so I'd heard. He didn't respond, or react at all. Feeling awkward, I gave a curt nod and continued scrubbing a particularly filthy uniform against the washboard.

“Why?” The single syllable cut the silence sharply, his low, monotone voice making my nerves dance. I swallowed hard, put down the washboard once again and turned back around to face the prince. His eyes were on me now. I felt a cold sweat trickle down the back of my neck. “Why do they treat you like that?” His face didn't change, nor did his voice. It was like talking to a wax statue - it felt so unnatural, especially since I'd not long before gotten on his brother's bad side.

“I… believe it's because I'm the odd one out… as a sword singer. And my, um… My ranking. Y-Your Highness.” 

He glanced over at the spar ranking board, a wooden plank haphazardly stuck to the wall. “Your name was?”

“A-April. April Anastas.” The prince just asked for my name. The other girls would probably lynch me if they found out. He studied the board in silence, only for a moment.

“I don't see it.”

 _Well, yeah, because your little stunt got it taken away from me!_ Every part of me wanted to say that. Luckily, restraint was my strong suit. “The Marshal saw fit to revoke my ranking after the incident this morning.”

“...I see.” He averted his eyes once again, still with that same unimpressed expression. “... Regardless, I came to apologise for this morning.” He was already making his way toward the stairs as he spoke, and he didn't look back. “Best of luck… April Anastas.”

“O-oh! Thank you… Y-Your Highness…” My response was futile. He was already gone. _What the hell was that?_ But was it just me, or… Did my name sound _really_ good in his voice? My chores felt so much lighter after that. Somehow, my fingers didn’t hurt anymore, and before I knew it, the midday bell had tolled. Stretching my back, I mentally prepared myself to climb up the stairs, when I heard someone running down them.

“April! You’re still here!” She beamed.

“Winnie?” She came to find me?

“Marshal says you can join us in sparring this afternoon, buuuuut you’re on detail again tomorrow morning. And… Every morning this week.” She tried to take the edge off the news with an apologetic smile. I groaned. The idea of four more days of laundry whilst the paladins were no doubt laughing at me was almost enough to make me want to drop out. Almost. “Bet you’ve not had time to eat yet, huh?”

“That’s right…” I sighed, “I’ll have to go out into town.”

“Naw, just come over to my place! I’ve got a bunch of peaches and bread we can share!” _Peaches and bread? Again?_ Sure, the school provided us with residence and a food budget, but what we could actually afford to eat was barely above the poverty line. And, well, the homeless were given free cake in Thais. One couldn’t help feel a tinge of jealousy from time to time, though it was hardly worth sleeping rough. “I also saved up for some marsh tea leaves - the strong stuff!”

“Okay, okay, sure. I’ll come over.” Marsh tea… I hadn’t drank that since my first week living in Thais. Back then, the student allowance of a hundred gold a fortnight seemed like a lot of money, so I splashed out on what I actually wanted to eat - once I’d become familiar with how Thais’ economy differs from my hometown, I quickly realised that was a mistake.

“Great! Let’s go!” And without further ado, I was whipped up in hurricane Winnie and dragged out into the streets.

 

Surprisingly, Winnie’s apartment was on the same stretch as mine. I always got up a little earlier than most of the paladins, and Winnie was kind of scatterbrained, so that was probably why I’d never seen her around there before. She unlocked the door and we stepped inside. It wasn’t as messy as I admittedly assumed it would be, but it was… Folky? She had a large sheepskin rug just in front of her bed and a portrait of a golden wheat field hanging above it. Considering her Ryvan accent, I wasn’t very surprised. “Get comfy! I’ll go brew the tea,” she said, snapping off marsh leaves and putting them into a tin pot. While it brewed, she threw me half a loaf of bread and a peach.

“Thanks.” I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but… Peaches and bread had pretty much been my diet for far too long. I ripped off a piece of the loaf and put it in my mouth. Slightly stale, as always. We all kind of resigned ourselves to the fact that they probably saved the good stuff for the aristocracy, and sold us lower citizens whatever was left. Still… My empty stomach was grateful enough for it to actually taste _good_. That was a perk of being condemned to detail for a week; having no snack breaks meant that I’d actually appreciate my lunch. I bit into the orange flesh of the peach and the sweet juices were almost intoxicating, only because I’d had no water all morning, either. Winnie set down a chipped teacup on the rickety bedside table. “Here ya go! Careful, it’s hot,” she warned me, as if I’d never drank tea before.

“Thank you.” I smiled, picking up the cup carefully. I inhaled deeply, the warm scent of the marsh leaves filling my nose, and my smile faded. I felt… Uneasy. Three months of what can only be described as apartheid of the classes under one roof, and then suddenly I’m being reprimanded by the crown prince because the _other_ prince tried to help me? Not only that, but he actually came to apologise? To _me_? “...Winnie.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you know about Prince Nicolas?”

“Hmmmm…” She sat down on the bed beside me, looking thoughtful. “'Bout as much as the other paladins know, which ain't much. We get told he's the best white mage on the continent, some serious talent. But from what I hear, he's all caught up in himself, y'know? Titles and that. Don't care much for lower folk in the food chain like us, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean.” I sighed. That's what I thought she'd say. But it just didn't add up with his behaviour that morning.

“Hey, now, what's with the long face? Afternoon sparring’s about to start,” she held out a hand to me with a devious grin. “I bet an entire bag of marsh tea that you can't claw your way back to the top of the rankings by the end of the day…”

“Heh,” I felt a smirk spread across my face as I shook her hand. “Challenge accepted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm about eight chapters deep in this fic already, so in the next few days I'll be checking over the other chapters and gradually uploading them. Feel free to let me know what you think. :3


	3. His Ruse

On my way to the morning roll call, the sun felt a little warmer - or maybe that was just my internal smugness. I walked through the castle's grand entrance. The paladins on their way to the school hall were abuzz with chatter, until they caught sight of me - a hush fell over them and most of them either looked away, or stared daggers. Ha. Needless to say, Winnie owed me a bag of marsh tea leaves. I managed to claw my way to the top of the rankings again a few days before, and in each sparring session since, I defended my title. Most of the paladins had given up on even trying to dethrone me.

In other news, the palace’s royal aides had been rushing around frantically. Was something going on? _Oh well,_ I thought, nothing to do with me. The sea of paladins-in-training began to disperse down the stairs and as I approached the stairway, my eyes wandered to the far end of the throne room. There was Uthar, valiant as ever. Maybe he'd forgotten I even existed. I could hope. But as the thought crossed my mind, I couldn't help but wonder if the other prince still remembered me… My eyes wandered across to where he was standing and--  
_Oh, gosh. Look away, look away…_ My gaze had locked with that of the young prince. Prince Nicolas was _already_ looking at me. My stomach turned and feeling like a deer caught in torchlights, I hurriedly made my way down the stairs, trying to blend in with the sea of brown uniforms. Maybe he was looking at someone else, though, right? Just a coincidence, definitely. The churning in my stomach wasn't convinced, though. Why was I so nervous? I didn't even know him, and vice versa.

Turns out I'd become so wrapped up in my own nervous thoughts that I didn't hear a single word that was said during roll call. “ _Anastas!_ ”  
“Ah! Y-yes, Sir!” I instinctively straightened my back and called out. I could hear a few quiet snickers around me. Marshal Doran furrowed his brow.  
“What's wrong with you, girl?”  
“My apologies, Sir. A bad night's sleep is all.”  
“I see, I see…” he nodded knowingly, clearly not realising that I was lying. “Need to get your eight hours a night to keep the old noggin going!” He chuckled.  
“Ha ha, yes, Sir…” I forced a small smile. “Should I get started on detail again today?”  
“Yes, but a few of the swords you'll need to sharpen are out at the front of the palace, near the prison. You know where that is, I assume?”  
“Yes, Sir. I walk past the prison every morning.”  
“Good. Gather them and get started. Oh, and Miss Anastas…” he leaned in a little closer with a quieter voice, his greying eyebrows moving like caterpillars as he surveyed the paladins around him. “Congratulations on your ranking again. Never have I seen such fire from a student.”  
“Oh, thank you, Sir,” I smiled modestly. Marshal Doran gave me a brief nod and led the paladins up the stairs. I waited a few moments for the path to clear, and made my way out of the palace, squinting against the harsh sunlight. I'd still never quite gotten used to how clear, how _blue_ , the sky was away from my hometown. I turned the corner to find my destination. The prison was a squat, drab building on the edge of the palace grounds. I approached with caution; being near it for too long gave me the creeps. As promised, four swords were slung into a bucket just outside of the prison’s door. How careless. A little disgruntled that people didn't take better care of their weapons, I hoisted the bucket into my arms and made my way back into the palace and down the stairs, mentally preparing for another morning of isolated work. Reaching the bottom of the stairs into the silent room, I turned the corner and, with a jump, realised I wasn't alone. The bucket clattered to the floor along with the swords, metal noisily striking the floor tiles. Nonchalantly leaning against the wall, his eyes were on me, cool as ever behind his blonde hair. _Why is he here?! I need to stop letting my guard down in this palace…_ Our eyes remained locked. It was as if his were drawing mine in - I couldn't look away. His expression didn't change but somehow, I felt like he was silently judging me. Cautiously, I leaned down to pick up the swords, averting my eyes to place the refilled bucket on the whetstone counter to my left. From the side of my eye I glanced at the prince. He hadn't moved. He was still… staring at me. Watching my every move. Feeling uneasy and self conscious, I cleared my dry throat. “Can I… help you, Your Highness?” At first, my words didn't seem to reach him. He was doing that thing again… He was like a statue. It was creeping me out. Finally, his eyes flitted away.  
“My brother wants me to get acquainted with the School. I wasn't aware anyone would be here at this hour.” His monotone voice reeked of disinterest. He was impossible to read. _But why do I feel like he isn't being entirely honest?_  
“I… I see. I apologise for getting in your way.” I averted my gaze to the swords and, still self conscious, began to rub a whetstone across one of the blades. The prince scoffed at my apology, but he didn't leave. He… didn't seem to be 'getting acquainted with the school’, either - he just stood there wordlessly, making me ashamed of breaking the silence every time I slid the stone across the sword.

The awkward atmosphere was becoming unbearable. I'd already finished with the swords and moved onto washing uniforms by the time he spoke again. But speak again he did; his low, almost mocking voice seeming to contradict the fact that he was even trying to talk to me. “Are you familiar with the Oracle's Ball?”  
“...No, Your Highness.” Why was he asking me this? Small talk? Weird. I glanced over at him and he rolled his eyes in a way that seemed to say, “of course you aren't”.  
“A social event for the nobility. Aside from the Royal family, among those attending will be high ranking aristocrats and Table Knights.”  
“Of which I am neither.” I answered quietly. _Okay…?_ Why would I need to know any of this? It was doubtful I'd ever have the opportunity to attend such an event in my _entire life_. Prince Nicolas didn't respond. His attention, although barely, seemed to have turned upward, and a steady yet strong pair of footsteps descended the stairway. Turning to the source of the sound, I saw a broad shouldered man in a gold rimmed armour approaching me. “Miss Anastas, correct?”  
“Y-Yes, Sir.” I turned my body to face him. What now? Was I in more trouble? What a day this was turning out to be.  
“A message for you, ma’am.” He said almost a little too respectfully as he handed me a parchment delicately tied with a soft crimson ribbon. Before I could thank him or ask what this was about, he'd already turned to leave. I turned to look questioningly at Prince Nicolas, who returned my gaze with a blank expression. Looking down at the yellowish paper, I carefully pulled at the ribbon and slowly unfurled the letter, my eyes immediately beginning to scan the calligraphy held within.

_“By decree of the Pendragon Crown, April Anastas is hereby pronounced an honorary Knight of the Table. All responsibilities and commands shall be taken separately from the student body.”_

I was frozen in place. My eyes were wide, my brow raised, and my mouth was probably agape. _I'm a… an Honorary Table Knight?! How?! I just got sanctioned! Now they're promoting me?!_ I should have been over the moon. Knighthood was what I'd been aiming for, but this was all so sudden. What had I done to deserve such an honour? A pair of quiet footsteps broke me out of my stupor. Prince Nicolas walked past me, the faintest of smug smirks on his face. It was as if he already knew. As he reached the bottom of the stairway he stopped, looking back over his shoulder with those seafoam eyes; “The Ball is tonight. I suggest you pay a visit to the gown shop.”  
_Aaaand he's gone…_ I exhaled slowly until my lungs were empty. It felt like the first time I'd had chance to catch my breath all morning. Why on earth was all of this happening? And now I was supposed to be attending a Ball?! I'd have to visit the gown shop just as the prince said, but what would I even be able to afford? “Argh, so many questions…” I held my head in my hands, privately lamenting. I wouldn't be on detail duty anymore, nor would I be training with the paladins. _So who do I report to tomorrow? Where do I go? What will I even be doing?! No, no… One problem at a time…_ The Ball was my first dilemma. I folded up the uniform I'd been scrubbing and headed out to town.

The gown shop was in the wealthier part of Thais. Needless to say, on my budget, I'd never shopped there before. The exterior of the shop was an enchanting white brick and the wooden door - mahogany? - was clearly far more expensive and less splintered than the one to my apartment. With a nervous gulp I twisted the golden door handle and stepped inside. My expectations had pretty much been confirmed; rows upon rows of exquisite dresses with big frills and even bigger price tags. Somehow my confidence about the situation dropped even lower than it already was. _There's no way I'd ever be able to afford any of these. I'd make a fool of myself if I went to the Ball…_  
“Hello there, dear,” a sophisticated looking blonde woman had noticed me loitering in the doorway. She was stocky and quite a lot shorter than me. Her makeup was elegant but her smile was kind. “Is there something I can help you with?”  
“N-No, um, well, I…” I had no idea what I was supposed to be asking for, but the woman's warmness put me at ease. “I… I'm going to a Ball tonight…”  
“The Oracle's Ball?” Her eyes gleamed with subtle excitement.  
“That's right.”  
“Would you happen to be April, perchance?”  
“Umm? Yes, I am, but--”  
“Wonderful! Right this way!” Before I knew it, she'd taken me by the arm and guided me swiftly to the back room of the shop. _Wh-what’s going on? How does she know my name?_ “Patty!” The woman called coarsely as we walked through a little doorway, “I need that order from earlier - the one courtesy of Nicolas Pendragon!”  
“ _What?_ ” I couldn't stop myself from asking. Nicolas Pendragon? Prince Nicolas Pendragon? The same Prince Nicolas Pendragon that suggested I visited the gown shop in the first place?! He definitely knew about my promotion. But how? And why would he care enough to pay for this? While I was still dumbfounded, the kind eyed woman offered me a chair and sat down opposite me, a rustic yet charming table between us. Before long an elderly woman in a mint green dress - presumably Patty - and a younger woman approached us, slinging a large, grey bag onto the table. “So,” the blonde woman leaned in, resting her hands on the table, “you're one of those _sword singers_ , aren't you, dear?” She asked with relish. The other two women cooed in wonder as she said it.  
“Ah… Yes, I am.” I responded bashfully, feeling a little embarrassed at all of the attention.  
“Strong and beautiful, hmm?” Patty smirked with a wink, “we've always wondered what sort of lady Prince Nicolas might be interested in.”  
“I-Interested in? No, I don't think…” I stammered, feeling the heat in my cheeks. The three women chuckled, the youngest of them, a confident looking redhead, stood up and began to unbutton the bag. “Let's see what you'll be wearing tonight, shall we?” She removed the dress from within the bag with a large sweeping arm movement, a flare she'd probably practiced a thousand times, and held it up for all to see.  
“W-Wow…” I gasped as I took in the sight of a garment so beautifully intricate that, had I been paying for it myself, I'd probably be in debt for the rest of my life. A large, many layered ruby red ball gown with a white underskirt and gorgeous gold lace. “Ohh, the lace is the same colour as your eyes, dear,” Patty cooed. _I wonder if Nicolas noticed that, too…?_  
“If you'd like, we can help you get dressed up, dear,” the kind blonde woman said.  
“I can do your hair!” The redhead woman piped up with a grin.  
“W-Would you? This is my first time doing anything like this… So…” I hated to be a burden, but I was unbelievably nervous. I needed all the help I could get.  
“Don't mention it, hun,” the redhead woman put a supportive hand on my shoulder, “we'll get you sorted out.”


	4. The Oracle's Ball

** Nicolas’ P.O.V. **

The Royal dinner hall. Pretentious decorations. A mediocre violinist. Far too many common people pretending to be important, just to cozy up to my family. The Oracle's Ball was always the same, and it was always a bore. I hoped that particular Ball would be different, but… It had already been almost an hour and the subject of my interest was nowhere to be seen. Not that I had much of a chance to look for her with Uthar practically joined at my hip. “Enjoying the Ball, Nick?”

“Thrilled,” I stifled a yawn. Mother and Father were still away in Candar, leaving Uthar in charge. Technically. He seemed to be playing up to the part, or trying far too hard to. We were surrounded by the Marshal as well as the higher Knights in the order, at the far end of the hall. I was never one for grand parties - it felt unnatural to be in a suit jacket rather than a robe, and I wasn't sure how much more of Uthar’s bravado babbling I could endure.

 

And finally, I didn't have to. The moment she entered the room my eyes were drawn to her; she wore the dress better than I could have imagined. She was… Radiant. Enchanting. Alluring. All would have been suitable describing words for her that night, but even my mind was speechless. Uthar caught sight of my staring, and followed my gaze. When he realised who I was looking at, his gaze swiftly turned into a bitter glower. I. Knew. It. Uthar was counting on her not turning up, not even knowing about the Ball or her permission to attend. First he hears of some strings being pulled for her promotion by an anonymous person in the Order - also known as yours truly - and now she was here. Checkmate, brother. I tried not to smirk. Needless to say, he wasn't trying to show off to the Knights anymore. But I didn't care about that - my attention could barely stay off of her for long. April. She lit up the room with her beauty. _Careful, now, Nicolas… Getting attached to someone is dangerous territory. You know that better than anyone._ But that cautious thought couldn't stop the impulse to approach her.

 

** April's P.O.V. **

The ballroom was like nothing I'd ever seen before. So many sights, sounds, smells… So, so many beautiful dresses; more silk than I'd seen in my entire life. Beautiful music that somehow complemented the polite chatter of the aristocrats below. The scent of so many different perfumes was a little overpowering… I was experiencing sensory overload. And my nerves hadn't settled in the slightest. I really didn't fit in with everyone else in the room - my dress almost felt like a disguise, like at any moment someone could point the finger and reveal me as someone who didn't belong. _It's okay... Breathe in. Breathe out._ I began to collect myself as my eyes scanned the room from the top of the marble steps, holding a handful of gown in each hand like I'd seen aristocrat ladies do.

Suddenly the chatter in the room grew quiet and the violinist began to play such a wonderful tune; before long, silk laden ladies and their suitors started pouring into the middle of the ballroom to dance. I was so captivated by the sight that I didn't notice the figure in front of me until a white gloved hand was extended toward me. My eyes flitted to his, and my heart skipped a beat; Prince Nicolas, his blonde hair caressing the collar of his tuxedo, his stony expression somehow softer as the light caught the edge of his aquamarine eyes. “May I have this dance?” Those words were enough; in that moment, I was his. Wordlessly my hand reached for his and he gently led me down the steps and into the middle of the room, the warmth of his palm seeping into mine through his soft glove. A space cleared amongst the couples and eyes were on us - but I didn't pay attention to them. Nicolas turned to face me once again, his eyes staring into mine with such intensity that I couldn't help but be drawn in. Without letting go of my hand he extended his arm outward guiding mine with it, and gently slipped his other arm around my waist, pulling my body close to his. _Very_ close. _W-Wow…_ I swallowed hard, doing everything I could to slow my nervous breathing. Glancing to the couples around us, I mimicked the other women and placed a hesitant hand softly on the prince’s shoulder. The corners of his perfectly sculpted lips smirked slightly at my lack of etiquette awareness and I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. The next thing I knew, we were dancing; our souls entwined as he guided my body into sweeping movements, his eyes never faltering from mine, his cool demeanour unchanged. My mind raced through fields of flowers, ribbons flying in pirouettes around my heart as we flew like doves through an eternal sky. In that moment, the Ball was where I belonged; his arms were my home and being in them was the most natural thing in the world. All too soon the song was over, and our dance came to a halt as those around us applauded politely. But he didn't look away, nor did he let go; his face drew in close to my right ear. “I knew it'd look perfect on you.” His voice was dark, rich honey and his warm breath tickled my ear, butterfly wings flapping in my stomach. He drew his face level with mine, the tips of our noses just barely touching. My heart was beating a mile a minute, my eyes unable to stray from his. His eyes flitted down to my slightly parted lips as he inched closer - then all at once, his attention was snatched away. His grip loosened and his gaze went behind me; I quickly glanced over my shoulder to see Prince Uthar, looking… less than impressed. I turned back to Nicolas, who gave my hand a final soft squeeze before wordlessly taking his leave in the direction of his brother. Entranced, I watched him go. I watched him walk all the way out of the room and, once I knew for sure he'd left, I felt a sense of longing emptiness like none I'd ever felt before.

 

I didn't stay at the Ball for long after that. Needless to say, I didn't know anyone else there, and the glances and murmurs from the people around me were a little unnerving. Not to mention, it was the night before my first official day as a Table Knight, so I thought it best to go home and get some sleep. It wasn't easy walking all the way through town in a ball gown, but I somehow managed. Sliding out of the dress and taking down my hair, I laid down on my bed and closed my eyes. I was so exhausted… my consciousness almost immediately drifted to a cloudy island where my prince and I danced in circles for the rest of time.


	5. Inquisition

“Excuse me… Do you know where the Table Knights… err, Knights of the Table report to?” That's right. I was lost on my first day. Thank goodness I'd turned up early.

“Fresh meat, eh?” The palace guard laughed, hardly easing my nerves. “Down the left hall, third chamber. Don't look so nervous, lady.”

“Thank you.” I bowed my head slightly and went on my way. It felt unnatural taking the left hall instead of the right one, but I was beyond excited to be a part of the Table Knights. And nervous. Can't forget nervous. Before long, I'd arrived in front of a large door with a metal crest in the shape of a helmet attached to the top. I straightened out my uniform, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door loudly. Maybe… too loudly? I gulped. The nerves were getting to me again. A moment's silence, and then the door handle turned with a clunk and the door creaked open. “Good morning,” came the slightly stern voice of a blonde haired man, perhaps in his thirties. “Miss Anastas?”

“That's right. Erm, S-Sir.” I said a little too shakily. The man stepped aside, ushering me inside. The room was a lot bigger on the inside, and the walls were adorned with maps and Thaisian flags. In the middle of the room stood a large circular table, sitting around which was one other man and one woman. There were about twelve chairs in total. It suddenly all became so real… I was already a Knight! This was my goal all along, but naturally, I couldn't help feeling awkwardly out of place.

“No need to look so tense,” smiled a slightly older man with short silver hair at the far end of the table, “you're one of us now. We don't bite.” he signaled to the seat next to him but as I approached, a woman with short auburn hair and piercing green eyes held her hand up. “Hold it!” She exclaimed. “That uniform is all wrong. You aren't a student anymore. Giles, don't you have her armour yet?”

“My armour?” I could feel my eyes lighting up. My own armour… I couldn't help but smile at the thought.

“Oh, of course.” The older man - presumably Giles - approached a large wooden chest and pulled a silver shortplate out of it. It wasn't as fancy as some of the Knights’ armour, but it was mine, and that was enough. He handed it to me with a wink. It was a little heavier than I expected, and I wasn't entirely sure how to put it on.

“Need a hand with that, kiddo? Cm'over here.” The woman asked me after watching me stare blankly at it.

“If you wouldn't mind…” I smiled, rubbing the back of my head with my hand. I walked over to the woman and she steadily helped me into my shortplate.

“How's it fit?”

“It's a little on the heavy side…” I said, sitting back down.

“Ah, you'll get used to it,” Giles laughed, “it's a little tough at first, but you'll be fine.”

“Thank you,” I smiled. Before long, my smile faded. Things still didn't make sense. “Um… Excuse me for asking, but… Do any of you know why I was promoted to Honorary Knight of the Table? This was all kind of… Sudden.”

“Well, your ratings are pretty self explanatory,” Giles smiled widely, “besides, sword singers are powerful, and you're the only one here. It'd be foolish not to promote you.”

“Ah… I see…” So it's just because I'm a sword singer… I tried not to feel too dejected, but it felt like my personal merit took a backseat to the rarity of a sword singer.

“ _Giles!_ ” The woman hissed, looking cross. She then smiled at me apologetically. “He didn't mean it like that. He's just kind of an _idiot_ sometimes.”

“H-Hey! Martha!”

“Am I wrong?” She responded with a smirk. “Anyway, April. You're one of us now. That means you're one of the people responsible for keeping the palace safe. Also, we're the first Knights they send out if anything happens out on the plains surrounding Thais. Got it?”

“Yes, I understand,” I responded, “but, um… If I'm not enlisted at the school anymore, how am I supposed to graduate?”

“Oh, that,” Martha said, extending her syllables. “Well, as you know, you're an honorary member of the Table Knights--”

“Knights of the Table,” Giles interjected, “Prince Uthar insists that we call ourselves by our proper title.”

“Right, right, of course,” Martha rolled her eyes. “Well, anyway, you're honorary. Meaning you showed such promise as a student that you were promoted early. So, basically, you just have to do your job as one of us and when the Crown thinks you're ready, you'll lose the honorary part of your title and be a full fledged Knight of The Table.”

“I see.” I said pensively. If by the Crown she meant Prince Uthar, I'd be in for a tough time - somehow I felt like he didn't like me.

“Don't worry about it!” Martha reassured me, “you'll get there in no time. I know it.” Somehow, I was starting to feel a little more confident. But it didn't last long.

“Oh, that's right,” Giles suddenly exclaimed, “Prince Uthar requests your presence at noon.”

“Prince _Uthar?_ ” I responded almost instinctually, not quite believing my ears. What did he want from me? Anxiety churned in my stomach just thinking about it.

“That's right…” Giles responded, raising an eyebrow at my reaction. “Until then, we'll take you through your new daily duties. Come on.”

 

Noon came all too soon, and as ordered, I reported to the throne room, my chest shaking against my armour. Was this normal? Were all new Table Knights to report to Uthar on their first day? Finally I was in front of the empty throne, a Knight stood either side, expressions stern. I cleared my dry throat before speaking. “Excuse me. I am here at the request of Prince Uthar.” After I said this, one of the Knights began to walk in the direction of what I assumed was the eldest prince's dressing room. Silent moments passed before the Knight returned, a larger figure behind him - was it his armour that made him larger? Or was it the intensity of his presence? The guard stepped aside and the black haired prince confidently sat on the throne, his smoldering eyes threatening to combust me at any moment. In that moment I realised just how afraid of the man I was. Trying to retain my composure and hoping it would all be over soon, I knelt, bowing my head. “Stand.” His voice carried throughout the entire throne room. I did as instructed. Prince Uthar opened his mouth to speak but, his eyes focusing to his right, closed it again. Steady footsteps came from the same direction and, turning my head, I caught sight of a familiar stony expression. Prince Nicolas. My heart got caught up in my throat, and I straightened my posture. As I watched him walk toward his brother, my mind was cast back to the night before - the Oracle's Ball. Our dance. Those eyes. The way he held me, whispered to me. How we almost--

_What's he doing here? Was he invited?_

“Nicolas… What a pleasant surprise.” Uthar grunted through gritted teeth. _Apparently not._

“Always a pleasure watching the _future king_ fulfill his duties.” Nicolas responded mockingly. He stood next to the throne and looked at me, his face softening. _Was that… a smile?_ My stomach felt fuzzy, but I had to hold it together. I was in front of the future king, and I was already wildly unpopular with him, so I doubted he'd take kindly to me making eyes at his brother.

“I'd like to ask you a few questions. We have little on record about you.” Uthar told me almost accusingly. “Your surname is Anastas, correct?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I don't believe I am familiar with the Anastas family.”

“It… isn't my family name, Your Highness,” I said as clearly as my nerves could muster, “Anastas was the name of the dormitory I stayed in at the Mage’s Academy I studied at on Spire Mountain.”

“And, why is it that you adopted this name?”

“My family does not have a surname, Your Highness.”

“I see,” Uthar mused. _So far, so good._ “Where is it you hail from?”

“Ravenwood… Your Highness.” I gulped as I anticipated the prince's reaction. I had no idea how far the news of Ravenwood had spread - in fact, I'd done my best not to think of my former home ever since I left. It seemed easier that way.

“Ravenwood… I don't believe I am familiar with it.” _Thank goodness._

“I-It’s a small rainy village in the woods far to the south, Your Highness, so not many know of it.” I laughed awkwardly. Prince Uthar didn't laugh; his expression seemed to darken.

“How is it that a girl with no family name could _afford_ to attend a Mage’s Academy?”

“W-well…” I wasn't expecting that.

“Perhaps you attended on scholarship… Or, could it perhaps be that you were a _thief?_ ”

“No… No, Your Highness, I… I…” My mind was spinning. How could I explain what had happened in Ravenwood? The words got caught in my throat and a drop of cold sweat trickled down the back of my neck.

“Answer the question, Miss Anastas.” Uthar ordered, his hard expression unchanged. My hands were shaking. I didn't want to remember… but I couldn't refuse an order. I took a deep breath and began to speak.

“Your Highness, I was--”

“Was that question absolutely necessary, Brother?” Nicolas cut in as calmly as ever, but his voice had a forceful edge I'd never heard before. _Did he know this would happen? Is he here to protect me?_ “Remember that you are not speaking to a student, but a Knight of the Table.”

“ _Honorary_ Knight of the Table.” Uthar spat the words out like profanity.

“All the same,” Nicolas sighed, rolling his eyes, “One should know when enough is enough. Father does not ask needless questions of his Knights.”

“Tch,” Uthar was visibly irritated. He attempted to regain his composure as he addressed me, coldly as ever. “That will do. You are dismissed.”

“...Thank you, Your Highness.” I spoke in the direction of Prince Uthar, but my eyes were on Nicolas. I wanted him to know how thankful I was that he came to my rescue… and there I was supposed to be the Knight. Nicolas returned my gaze with a covert nod, and trying to hide a warm hearted smirk, I walked away.


	6. Perfect for a Date

** Nicolas’ P.O.V. **

 

Days had passed since I gatecrashed Uthar's little hazing session. I'd had a feeling that any reason he had to call April in front of him wouldn't be a good one, and I was right. He'd been avoiding me ever since, though he'd probably deny it. I hadn't seen April, either… Of course, I tried to predict where she'd be so I could make some excuse to talk to her - not that I was embarrassed or anything like that, or not that I wanted to admit. But, with her new status as an honorary Table Knight, I had no idea where she'd be. It wasn't just as simple as heading down to the school anymore. The Knights worked all over the city. Not that I knew what I'd say to her anyway. I only had so many excuses to be in the same place as her at the same time, and I could only feign disinterest for so much longer. I'd tried to convince myself that my interest in her was merely for the sake of annoying Uthar, but that just wasn't true. Whether I wanted to get close enough to someone to be vulnerable or not, I couldn't stop myself from being fascinated by her. Her looks. Those fiery eyes. Her strength and her beautiful soul. Everything about her had captivated me and for me, feeling so strongly about someone was uncharted waters. I wanted to be on guard but every time she looked at me, I wanted her to tear down my walls. I was so conflicted; longing for her but fearing what might happen. Besides, she was a Knight… Once she'd start going on crusades, there was never any guarantee that she'd make it back…

 

 _Stop it. Don't think like that._ I shook my head. I was in the throne room, and out of the corner of my eye I saw a guard approaching Uthar's dressing room. He was holding a parchment wrapped in a yellow cord - that meant a request from the Table Knights. Curiously, I watched him walk. _What could it be?_ “You.” I intercepted him. “Uthar is… Out. I'll be taking his messages.” I made sure to keep my voice down because Uthar was not, in fact, out.

“Yes, Your Highness.” The guard saluted me and handed me the parchment as I hid a mischievous smirk. “I will be on my way now, Sir.”

“Very well.” I watched the guard leave. I made sure he was gone before I scurried back to my dressing room and carefully slid the parchment out of the cord. As I unrolled it, one word caught my eye before anything else: “April.” My eyes widened slightly as I read it in its entirety. April was on duty in the Green Weed Plains and the Table Knights were requesting that Uthar assign a mage to her. I scoffed. He'd never let me do it, even if I groveled. Not that it was going to stop me. I crumpled the parchment in my fist. _I suppose he doesn't need to know about this._

 

** April's P.O.V. **

 

I hadn't left the border of Thais since I enrolled at the School of War and Magick, until that day. I was nervous to be doing my first patrol outside of the city's borders, but Giles had assured me that Green Weed Plains was a fairly uneventful place. I reached the entrance of Thais, the sun reflecting off of my armour. Just as I was about to take my first step onto the emerald grass of the Plains, a hand suddenly clamped on my shoulder and a shiver shot up my spine. “Gyah!”

“Morning.” A familiar monotone voice. _Are. You. Serious?_ I turned around and sure enough, two blue eyes looked unamusedly back at me. He was wearing his mage's robes and carrying a golden staff.

“N-Nicholas?!”

“Yes?”

“What…” His nonchalance caught me off guard. But he was still a prince - I had to keep it together. “What are you doing out of the palace, Your Highness?”

“...You can drop that way of addressing me.” He mumbled hesitantly, averting his eyes. “The other Table Knights requested that Uthar send a white mage with you on your patrol. Didn't you know?”

“And… Prince Uthar sent _you_ to come with _me?_ ” I asked in disbelief.

“Well, not exactly. It doesn't really matter either way.”

“What do you mean, not exactly?”

“I didn't ask his permission.” He said, calm as ever. He started walking toward the Plains. “Come on.”

“Wait.” I took his wrist lightly. It was a little embarrassing, and not only because he had the power to throw me in prison, but as a Knight I had to put my foot down. “I think you should go back. It might not be safe.”

“Heh.” He scoffed, giving me an arrogant look. “You think I can't handle myself? Besides, you're a _Knight,_ are you not?”

“Well, yes, but if anything happens to you, Uthar--”

“Please.” He turned his body to face me, sliding his wrist out of my hand and taking my hand in his. That soft expression was back; that look in his eyes that toyed with my heart. “...I wanted to see you.”

“Y-You…” _He wanted to see me?_ I was speechless. He just came straight out and said it. My face was heating up, but I'd never forgive myself if I let this pass me by. Through my dry throat I managed to squeak out the words; “...I've been wanting to see you too.” Somehow saying it felt… Liberating? Admitting my feelings was hardly the apocalyptic event I'd imagined. His warm fingertips tightened around mine ever so slightly as we wordlessly looked at each other. Finally, a slight pink tint rising to his cheeks he looked out at the Plains and cleared his throat. “...Come on. We have a patrol to do.”

 

The Plains were quiet and vibrant, the subtle sound of tweeting birds filling my ears. “We should head up to the top of that hill.” I pointed to the top of a grassy mound to our left. “We should be able to see the whole of the Plains from there.”

“That doesn't sound like much of a _patrol_ to me.” Nicolas said sarcastically.

“Well, we can either stick to definitions, or we can do this effectively,” I teased, “your choice.”

“Hmph,” Nicolas smiled and simultaneously melted my heart with his dimples, “fine. Have it your way.” We climbed the hill and sat down on the soft grass at its peak. I was right - the entirety of the Plains was visible because the rest of it was flat. Nicolas edged toward me. He seemed… Different than before. Less guarded. “...I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Okay…” I sighed in response, “but shouldn't we be doing more guarding than talking? What if something happens and we aren't paying attention?”

“Knights are always so serious…” Nicolas rolled his eyes. “Look. Nothing is happening.” He was right - the Plains were nothing but peaceful. Maybe I was just trying to distract myself from the fact that I was alone with him. I didn't want to ruin things with my nerves. “And we're out here. It's a beautiful day. Perfect for a…” his voice trailed off, almost as if he'd gotten carried away with himself. Sheepishly he looked down at the grass. This was a new side of the prince that I hadn’t seen before; one that already had a firm hold on my heart.

“Perfect for a _what?_ ” I smirked.

“...Nothing.”

“Nicolas?”

“ _Nothing,_ April.” He insisted. It was true - I loved the way my name sounded in his voice, especially when he was flustered.

“Were you going to say--”

“Don't.”

“Perfect for a _date?_ ”

“Ugh…” he turned away for a moment, clearly embarrassed. I couldn't help but smile. After regaining his cool demeanour he turned back to me and narrowed his eyes, turning up his nose slightly. “What are you smirking at? If I were to take you on a date it'd be somewhere _much_ grander than this.”

“Oh, but you _would_ take me on a date?” I couldn't help it. He was adorable.

“Well, obviously…” he mumbled, standing up, lending me a hand to follow him. “I'm surprised you're _this_ slow to catch on. Maybe the paladins rubbed off on you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked with a gulp. Was he going to confess? He didn't let go of my hand and stepped closer, his nose level with my forehead. The moment before, he was innocently flustered at my teasing, but now… He was the seductively mysterious prince I'd danced with at the Ball. Suddenly I couldn't read him at all, his eyes daring me to come closer. “April.” Those deep, delicious tones again. My heart almost burst out of my chest, all the while his sweet, warm breath caressed my cheeks. “I think it's time I told you that I--”

 

 _WHACK._ That was the last sound I heard before I was on the ground, my face pressed against the dirt. _Oh dear goddess, what was that…?_ I groaned inaudibly as I tried to gather my bearings, the back of my head pulsing with sharp pain.

“Hah! You got 'er good!” I heard a rough voice laugh nastily. I lifted my aching head to see something that made me sick to my stomach.

“L-Let go of me…!” Nicolas demanded, a bandit holding him roughly around the neck, two others restraining his arms.

“N-Nicolas…!” I tried to reach out, but my hand was stomped into the ground with a crunch. “Agh…!” An involuntary cry came out of my mouth as tears stung the corners of my eyes. The man crushed my hand harder with his shoe, grinning ear to ear. “Get the little prince back to the base. I'll deal with this one.”

“No! Get _off_ of her!” Nicolas shrieked desperately, trying to resist being dragged away. The man on his left punched him in the gut, and he stopped moving.

“ _Nicolas!_ ” I screamed, the laughter of the man above me all I could hear. I stared up at the disgusting rat, rage welling up within me. “I'll… I'll kill you…” I tried to push myself off of the ground, but it was no good - I was hurt. Badly. My consciousness was fading. My ears rung with pain. But my anger only grew. “I'll kill all of you…!”

“Let's see how you do that with a bloody face, eh, princess?” He cackled, kicking me repetitively in the face. The pain… Oh dear god the _pain_ was unbearable. Blood clouded my vision. The last thing I saw before falling unconscious was the man's boot hurtling toward my eyes.


	7. Her Bloody Rescue

“April… April, _wake up!_ ” The desperate voice of a woman called out to me in the darkness.

“M-Mother…?” I opened my eyes, a blue sky stretched out above me. I studied the face of the woman who was looming over me closely.

“What? No!” She exclaimed in a panic. It was Martha. “Come on, stay with me…!”

“I'm awake… I'm awake.” I grunted, grogginess swirling me around as Martha helped me sit up. “Ugh… My head…”

“April, what on earth _happened_ to you? Where's the mage they assigned you?”

“The… Mage?” My eyes widened in a slow realisation and I sprung to my feet. “Nicolas! Where's Nicolas?!”

“Nicolas…?” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “You don't mean…?”

“ _Prince_ Nicolas! Where the hell is he?! Where did they-- _agh!_ ” The pain was too much. I collapsed into Martha's arms.

“Steady, there…” She reassured me before turning her head away and shouting. “Giles! Get over here!” She turned back to me, her face gentle and worried. “Come on. What happened? Why was the prince here?”

“...The mage. He… He came instead.”

“ _What?!_ ” Martha shouted. “Then what happened? How did it get _this_ bad?”

“We were ambushed by bandits… They took him.”

“Bandits?” Giles had made his way over to us. “In Green Weed Plains?”

“Giles, go tell Prince Uthar. We need a plan of action right away. I'll work on getting April back to the palace and…” Martha's voice started to fade. I couldn't hold on.

 

I woke up in the Royal Infirmary, which I only knew because part of my induction as a Table Knight was to familiarise myself with the interior of the palace. “Ugh…” My face was sore. The back of my head felt like it had been cracked open. I slowly sat up in the rickety bed, a little dizzy. “Martha!” I heard a shout to my left and, turning to look, I saw the blonde Knight I knew from the Table. “She's awake!”  
“Oh thank goodness!” Martha's voice echoed down the hallway, her footsteps beating hard against the tile floor. Suddenly she was at my side, relief and concern battling for her expression. “How are you feeling?”

“Awful.” I replied bluntly. “Doesn't matter. Need to find Nicolas.”

“No, you need to rest. It's under control.”

“...It is?” I felt my muscles relax, but only a little. The image of Nicolas’ terrified face was burned into my mind. “I'm not laying back down in that bed. I can't sit around and do nothing.”

“I understand.” She placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, speaking softly. “How about we get something to eat? I bet you're starving.”

“...Sure.”

 

The Knights’ dining hall was pretty poorly put together compared to the rest of the palace. Well, except for the school. Martha sat opposite me around a splintered wooden table, each of us with a bowl of hot stew in front of us. Martha wolfed hers down like she hadn't eaten in weeks, but I could barely manage more than two mouthfuls. I was starving, but the churning in my stomach made it impossible to keep eating. I was worried sick about him. I wanted to see him safe. Waving the spoon around in my stew, I couldn't stop my mind jumping to worst case scenarios.

“April, you need to eat,” Martha spoke cautiously. “This wasn't your fault.”

“I can't.” I dropped the spoon, resting my face in my hands. “I can't eat anymore.”

“It'll be okay. I know you can't help feeling bad because this was your first proper patrol, but--”

“That's not it.” I mumbled through my palms.

“It… isn't?”

“No… I just… I'm worried about Nicolas… I need to see him…”

“You…?” Martha’s voice trailed off in silent realisation. I didn't have to say it - she already knew. “I see… I'm sorry. I didn't know.” She moved around the table to sit next to me, pulling me to rest on her shoulder. “I'm sure Uthar will change his mind.”

“...What do you mean?” My head shot up. Uthar? What was _he_ doing? “I thought you said it was under control.”

“Oh, y-yeah, it is…” she shrunk away, turning her head. She'd obviously said something she wasn't supposed to.

“Martha.”

“...I'm not supposed to talk about it.”

“ _Martha!_ ”

“Okay, okay, keep it down…” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. “When we took your armour off, we found a note. One of the bandits must have left it.”

“Seriously?” I stood up sharp, my palms slamming on the table. “What did it say?”

“...They want gold by nightfall. A lot of it. They're in a cave to the east of the Plains.”

“And Uthar…” I clenched my fists instinctively at the mention of his name, “he's going to meet the demands, right?”

“He…” Martha stopped, sighing heavily. She broke off eye contact. “He wants to call the bandits’ bluff.”

“ _What?_ ”

“He has no intention of meeting the deadline. He's sending me and a few of the other Table Knights to the cave at midnight.”

“It'll be too late by then!” I slammed my fist on the table. “Where's my armour?”

“We’re under orders not to let you have it until you've recovered.”

“I'm _fine._ ”

“Sorry…” her voice shook, “I've already told you things I shouldn't have. I can't do any more.”

“Fine, I'll go without it.”

“Are you _insane?_ ” Martha stood up, mimicking my stance. “You haven't fully recovered. You could be concussed, and we have no idea how many of them are.”

“I don't care.”

“...He took your sword, too.”

“I'll get one from the school,” I responded, my tone increasingly urgent, “no more of this. The sun's going down, I have to go.”

“Fine…” Martha sighed at last, “but if Uthar asks where you are, I won't be able to lie.”

“Wouldn't expect you to.” I stood up, the familiar anger brewing in my chest. _This is what I felt back then… back in Ravenwood._

“At least eat something before you go,” Martha shouted, throwing me an apple. “You'll need your strength.” Silently I nodded, catching the apple in my left hand and making a swift exit toward the school, Nicolas’ face the only image in my mind. No matter what it took, I had to find him. And if Uthar found out… To hell with Uthar. In that moment I didn't fear him - I resented him. Leaving his own brother to the fate of criminals. I crushed the apple in my palm. Those bandits wouldn't know what hit them.

 

**Nicolas’ P.O.V.**

 

The cave was damp and disgusting, dull lanterns all that separated me from complete darkness. Visually, anyway - mentally I was already there. My stomach felt like lead and my entire body was shaking; from the cold or from fear, or perhaps both. My hands were bound behind my back with thick rope that was cutting into my wrists. But none of the pain even came close to how scared I was for April. Where was she? Was she safe? I had no way of knowing. I had no choice but to sit and endure the cold, the hunger, the fear, all while the bandits taunted me.

“Can you believe the leverage we've got, boys?” The ugly one with half of his teeth missing cackled. “To think we were just gonna kidnap one of the Knights, but the _prince_ showed up?” _They were targeting April?_ The thought made my blood boil. Catching sight of my expression, the bandit kicked me in the stomach and, as I was writhing in blind pain, leaned in close. “What's with that look? Huh?” His saliva was showering onto my face. “Your fault from leaving the palace, spoiled brat. Now you're our bargaining chip.”

“I wouldn't call it bargaining,” the muscly one in the bandana grunted, sizing me up, “deadline for our demands passed a while ago.”

“Oh?” The toothless ape laughed in my face. “Looks like your brother don't give a damn about you!”

“Shut up…”

“ _Huh?_ ” His smile dropped.

“Shut _up!_ ” I spat in his face.

“You little shit!” he grabbed me by my hair and lifted me from the ground, grinning as I groaned in agony. Pulling a rusty dagger from his belt, his bloodshot eyes grew malicious. “Let's see how much of a message a _dead body_ sends, eh?” His crones laughed at his words. I held my breath. _Is this really it?_

 

A crashing noise sounded not so far in the distance, the ground shaking slightly from the impact. _An explosion?_ Anxiously I opened my eyes. None of the bandits were smiling - they were panicked.

“What the hell was--” those were the last words of the muscly bandit before his head rolled across the cave floor, a crimson trail of fresh blood pouring out as his torso hit the ground. I looked up from the gruesome sight and my heart sang with relief and anguish; April was there, her face bruised, her eyes wild like a woman possessed. Never had I seen such raw anger as she lunged toward the toothless bandit, skewering him with her sword, his face contorted in desperate pain as he breathed his final breath. His body fell to the floor as I watched in awe and she looked at me with those crazed eyes; I couldn't help but flinch away. Her aura was murderous - I could feel it. “Where are the rest?” Her voice was commanding and cold.

“They’re not here…” my quiet voice shook. After taking in my words her sword dropped to the ground with a clang, and her livid expression softened into sorrow as she dropped to her knees and threw her arms around me. “Thank the goddess… You're alive…” she sobbed, her warm cheek pressed against mine, a single tear from her eye dampening my face. My heart skipped a beat. She pulled away, her watery eyes staring into mine, her face barely an inch away. “Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?”

“N-No…” I mumbled, trying not to let the pain in my stomach show. “...A little. My hands are tied…”

“I-I’ll get that,” she stammered, leaning her body over mine to reach my wrists, her warm chest pressing against mine. Gulping hard, I could feel my body getting hot. _Stop it, Nicolas… Not now…_ Finally my hands were free, my wrists sore from the ropes. I caressed her bruised cheek with my right hand, my thumb stroking her soft skin. She winced slightly at my touch, and I frowned. “You're injured.”

“What are you doing worrying about _me_ at a time like this?” Her voice was high pitched and melancholy, a flood of tears pouring out of her beautiful eyes. My stomach felt warm as I took her in my arms. Everything felt right again.

“Nicolas! Where are you?!” But only for a moment. April's body tensed up when she heard his voice. Uthar. Several pairs of footsteps approached us. Wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath, April helped me to my feet, my arm around her shoulder for support. Taking in the bloody scene, the Knights around my brother looked horrified. Uthar tried to keep his stern composure. “What the _hell_ happened here?”

“...The bandits were taken care of.” I answered quietly, trying to feign calmness. April wordlessly stared at the ground. It appeared she didn't rescue me on my brother's orders but of her own volition.

“You…” Uthar approached us, his focus locked on April. “Explain yourself.” April didn't respond.

“Brother she saved my--”

“What she _did,_ was compromise _my_ plan!”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, your plan was wrong.” April spoke suddenly, calm and collected, returning my brother's intense stare. It wasn't intimidation or an apology in her eyes - it was… Hatred? “The bandits were about to kill Nicolas as I arrived.”

“How can I be sure of that?” Uthar narrowed his eyes, the vein in his reddening forehead visible. Just as I was about to defend April, a redheaded Knight spoke up, an apologetic look in her eyes.

“Th-the important thing is that Prince Nicolas is safe now, right, Your Highness?” A friend of April's? Even with the best of intentions, it was rare for anyone to speak against my brother - in fact, April was the only one I'd seen do so until then.

“...Very well.” Uthar spoke through gritted teeth, grabbing me by my free arm. “Nicolas will be coming with me. Martha, please see Miss Anastas to her quarters.”

“Wait--” before I could protest, Uthar was pulling me forcefully out of the cave as if I was a child rather than twenty two years old. Stumbling along, I glanced longingly back over my shoulder at April, the sad look in her eyes piercing my soul.


	8. Candlelit Rendezvous

The next morning, I felt awful. My stomach was bruised and sore, and I barely slept. No, I didn't even want to sleep - I just wanted to see _her,_ and Uthar had clearly caught onto it, because he hadn't left me alone all morning. “That gods damned sword singer needs to learn to follow orders…” was the latest among his passive aggressive comments.

“She saved my life. You found the bandits’ hideout. What is the problem?” I asked bluntly, my patience wearing thin.

“The _problem_ is…” Uthar grunted, his words fading to nothing. “Either way, you advocating for her behaviour is anything but helpful. You could have _died,_ you do realise?” he raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge my reaction. I was still shaken, obviously - who on earth wouldn't be? But more than that, I was irritated. I felt betrayed.

“Yes, I _am_ aware, Uthar. I'm also aware that April saved my _life,_ whereas _you_ decided to chance leaving me there.”

“Oh come on, Nick,” he tried to get all chummy with me again. The usual tactic he'd use whenever he knew I was right. “I thought it was best at the time. It’s in the past now. What do you want me to do about it?”

“I want you to stop punishing her.” I glared at him. “Give her armour back. If anything, she deserves rewarding. I'm a prince. She saved my life while everyone else--”

“ _Reward_ her?” He scoffed loudly. “You're not implying that I should let her graduate?"

“Well, it'd be a start.” I rolled my eyes.

“Seri will freeze over before that happens.” he said mockingly. “But, fine. She can have her armour back. She'll need it for the crusade, anyway.”

“Crusade?” I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Yes, a crusade. In two weeks. I saw to it that your precious sword singer signed up. Wouldn't want to waste the talent, after all.” He smiled widely, like he'd won. I couldn't believe it - he was sending her away? Why? My heart sunk. The thought of her getting hurt - or worse - physically pained me. It wasn't my place to decide for her but I wished that, somehow, I could convince her not to go. Either way, Uthar's expression was getting a little scary, so I changed the subject. “What of the bandits? What happens next?”

“Ah, yes, I was meaning to tell you.” He said calmly. “The Knights of the Table are on duty until midnight, so they will be surveying the Plains this evening.”

“Is--”

“No.” Uthar predicted my question. “Miss Anastas will not be going as she cannot be trusted to follow orders. Instead, she'll be on duty guarding the palace.”

“...I see.” I sighed. I never realised before just how strongly my brother could hold a grudge. “Is that all?”

“That's everything. You should rest, Nick. You've been through an ordeal.”

“Sure…” I mumbled. As if he cared.

 

** April's P.O.V. **

 

I was the only Knight on duty in the palace that night. I had another hour on my shift, and it was hardly riveting - everyone in the palace was in bed, and the other Table Knights were out in the Plains being of some actual use. Unlike me. Prince Uthar didn't trust me enough to let me do _anything._ Well… At least he’d given me my armour back, much to my surprise. I stifled a yawn. The throne room was pretty eerie at night, but I much preferred it to be eerie than for Uthar to be around. I was facing the palace's entrance when I felt a tap on my shoulder - light, but enough to make me jump. “Eek!” I squealed as quietly as I could manage.

“Calm down. It's me.” came a quick whisper. I turned around, and there he was; the only person that had been on my mind all day.

“Of course. Who _else_ would catch me off guard in the middle of the night?” I smirked playfully, keeping my voice low. “Shouldn't you be in bed?”

“I couldn't sleep.” Nicolas said shortly. His face was unreadable; he was guarded again, just like when I met him. “I came to see you.”

“I'm glad, but what if someone hears us? Uthar?”

“Come guard my room. He won't hear us there.”

“I…” I gulped. Obviously I wanted to be alone with him safely, but… “I'm sorry. I can't just leave my post.”

“What if I told you that… I'm scared of bandits breaking in while I sleep and want protecting?” He grinned cheekily. “It's fine. No one will know you left.”

“Well… Okay,” I sighed, “but if someone _does_ find out--”

“I'll take the blame. I told you, it's fine.” He took my hand lightly and guided me down the corridor to his room. I stopped at the doorway. “...I'll guard from here.”

“No. Come in.”

“Why?”

“What if someone snatches me while your back’s turned?”

“You're a grown man, Nicolas.” I furrowed my brow. Nicolas rolled his eyes. In the end, I stepped inside, and a small smile rested on his face.

“I… wanted to talk to you about last night.” His voice was serious, the candle light flickering in his pupils. “...I'm glad you came.”

“So am I.”

“But that doesn't mean that I'm okay with you putting yourself at risk for my sake.”

“I was hardly _at risk._ ”

“You were _hurt._ And you didn't even have your armour on.” His voice shook slightly. “...You were far too reckless.”

“Reckless?” I responded, averting my eyes from his. I told him candidly. “...I don't think you quite understand the lengths I would go to, to keep you safe.”

There was a silence after that. My words hung in the air. It felt embarrassing to make such a proclamation, but I was glad he knew. I would have done anything for him. Glancing over at him, I saw a faint blush starting to appear at his cheeks, though he tried to hide it by turning away. I smiled to myself. Nicolas yawned, his eyes only half open. “You don't have to stay up on my account, you know,” I told him, “you should get some rest.”

“No, I'm fine,” he sighed, “besides… I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?”

“The upcoming crusade.”

“Oh… That.” My stomach dropped. I'd done my best to forget about it. “What about it?”

“You're going?”

“Yes, I am.” I responded, trying not to sound too downcast. “It's been my dream for a long time to serve this country in battle as a Knight.”

“...Do you still feel that way?” He asked cautiously.

“Of course I do.”

“ _Really?_ ” He said, his voice edged with scepticism.

“Yes…” I sighed, my shoulders slumping slightly. “I still want nothing more than to serve. But I…” my voice trailed off. I had no idea how to explain how I was feeling.

“But…” Nicolas began quietly, “Now that the crusade is actually on the horizon, you aren't so sure?” He hit the nail on the head. I could hardly believe it. Was I so easy to read? I didn't want to answer - I didn't want to admit I had cold feet about the crusade, and I couldn't bring myself to tell him that my feelings for him were the reason.

“...I shouldn't be talking while I'm on duty, Nicolas.”

“Very well.” He didn't protest. He turned to his desk and sat down. I expected him to go to bed, but he never did. He just… Sat there, not doing much at all, in silence.

 

The palace bell tolled. Midnight at last. Suddenly Nicolas forcefully pushed his chair away from his desk, the screeching breaking the silence. Without missing a beat he strode over to me, drawing his face in close, locking me in eye contact. “Your shift is over.” That was all he said before pressing his warm lips to mine, his fingers gently running through my hair. Backed against the wall my stomach fluttered, my eyes closed. Gently he pulled away and our eyes opened, his nose touching mine as he stared into my soul with those deep blue eyes, his damp parted lips begging for more. Obligingly I leaned forward into him, my mouth meeting his, our kiss deepening in passion, his breath hot and heavy. His right hand slid down and rested on my chest plate, his voice an intense, breathy whisper. “This is in the way.”

I lifted my arms and in one swift movement he removed my chest plate, letting it clatter to the floor as his hands snaked around my waist, pushing me into the wall again as our lips refused to be separated. My body felt hot as my hands searched for his robe, unfastening it and casting it to the floor. His arms tightened around me as he broke off our kiss, his mouth caressing my neck, my breath growing heavier with the ecstasy. In a sultry tone he whispered in my ear; “Don't go.”

“I have to,” I whispered back, trying to contain my breath, “I can't pull out of the crusade, Nicolas…”

“Fine,” he conceded, his kiss moving gently down to my collar bone, “but stay here tonight. With me.”


End file.
